Context

During the beginning stages of Covid, everything was shut down, and we were all forced to stay inside. At this point, I had just befriended someone who I felt very connected with, and I’d like to think they felt the same. However, as the early lockdown days continued, I started becoming very depressed and frustrated with isolation, as I’m sure many of you also experienced. I really wanted to see her in person, but obviously couldn’t. We were both in difficult places in our lives. That, plus Covid, caused us to drift apart, and I experienced my first heartbreak.

The poem below, which I’ve titled This Show’s a Train, was written by me as a result of the above situation. I tried to write more, but decided that these six lines were enough as they perfectly explain my feelings.

This show’s a train, it’s moving fast

You and I weren’t meant to last

Just for once can life be a blast

Cause I’m tired of life repeating the past

Being with you, made me so gassed

Then our friendship broke like glass

Thank you for reading. – TM

I wrote this poem, Black & White, to express how I feel being an ethnically diverse individual.

Black & White

Half black and half white, so it makes sense that I feel gray

Represented by the clothes that I wear every day

—

Talking about my side that isn’t safe in the streets

I feel like a doughnut, guess who’s looking for a treat

Even at home where I try to relax and eat

I’m asked if I’ll rob, instead of friendly greets

Same thing at school, all the clowns speak in tweets

Slur after slur, they treat me like a freak

Report to the teachers, gave them all of the receipts

Funny how suddenly their vision would deplete

And I’m the one that they tell to take a seat

—

And for the side that most don’t even see

Sometimes that “most” is in the family

I get the look that says “You’re not related to me”

And when I’m outside with mom, it’s the same thing I notice 

The scenario in their head, with me as the focus

“Why is he following that poor woman everywhere?”

“They’re obviously not related, look no further than their hair”

—

So as you can see, it’s a war on both sides

I won’t choose a team, so I’ll just have to hide

I rarely felt like I fit in anyway, so it doesn’t even matter

But until then, it’s time to be an actor

—

Final Thoughts

Since high school, I started feeling the effects of being ethnically diverse. I feel quite uncomfortable when I am the only black person in a group of white folks, due to past experiences where ignorant and racist comments have been made. Even in a group of all black folks, I still become a little uncomfortable because I feel like I lack a lot of cultural knowledge, therefore it’s been difficult to relate to others.

I very much prefer being in a diverse setting; where there are people that come from all sorts of ethnic backgrounds. It puts me much more at ease knowing I am not outnumbered, and there are multiple cultures present.

– Therell

If you would like to hear other poems I’ve written, visit my Music Channel.

And check out this poem submitted by Emorie, it’s a very stellar writing piece.

My intention with this poem is to describe the perspective most people with mental health disorders go through with symptoms, not allowing the disorder to become a part of our identity and the vulnerability of connectivity with others due to stigmas placed on mental health and the help towards betterment.

Emorie – 25

Hello all! I have chosen a new title for this blog series! From “Navigating Autism” to “The Game We Call Life”. I’m still going to talk about my experiences with autism! I’m also going to talk about my experiences being BIPOC, as a member of the LGBTQ+ community, with mental health and just my overall life experience(s). Or as Ally says, lived wisdom!

My Flash Poem

Reading those words reminds me of how much I want my poetry to be dissected by an English class. Besides that fact, this poem highlights a generalized statement of personal experiences. I feel like many people reminisce days they never had. But this poem isn’t just about the reminiscing, it’s also about going after it; eventually.

For Future English Classes

Inspiration to write this poem was truck by feeling like I missed certain things in life because I wasn’t living for myself. I was controlled from a young age by what I can or cannot do because I was assigned female at birth. Reminiscing the days I have not experienced link to gender identity and BIPOC history. It was common that people of the BIPOC community (traditionally) didn’t assign a gender to their child at birth. However, a child was able to announce their gender identity by the age of 5 or 6 and live as their truest self. The land spirits, elders, and/or shaman would then give these children a name. In some cases, a child would name themselves. I’m quoting my ancestors on this.

Personally, at the age of 4, I became aware of my gender identity through my self-perception of being a boy. I was aware of my attraction to feminine people at the age of 4 too! I was actually really verbally expressive about my attraction to feminine people and my self-perception. Unfortunately, it was swept under the rug to be hidden from the world. I felt stuck in society’s “evolution” of norms.

I reminisce the day that I was able to be myself without expectations of gender identity from birth.

Maybe This Can Act as Words of Life Encouragement 🙂 !

As much as I can reminisce on the days I never had, I know I can’t live those experiences in this physical reality. However, I can call back what I wasn’t able to experience by healing my wounds. Play life the way you want to; as yourself.

– Dez 🙂

In honor of Black Poetry Day, this post is me sharing my poem Enough that I wrote a year or two ago and read aloud on my music YouTube channel.

This poem was made after the loss of a friendship that I really treasured. Sometimes relationships, platonic or romantic, fizzle out and it can be heartbreaking, especially if it was a relationship you thought would last forever.

– Therell

The Poet she had called him,

For how the words flowed from his soul.

How he’d made the people listen,

How he wanted them to change the world.

In a world full of loathing, 

The Poet tried to make them see.

The world was not a place of hate, 

But rather one of compassion. 

His voice was never quiet, 

His message, loud and clear.

We all could change the world, 

If we looked past the hatred and disgust, 

And at the beauty and endearment the world offered.

The poet failed.

As his word passed through empty halls,

Not reaching a single ear.

He was lost, 

Unsure of the world. 

Until he found you.

Beck and call.

Twist and turn.

Until he found you.

For you had become the poet.

Nothing more and everything else.

This weeks podcast is with Adrianna , Cindy, Emma, and Nahjeera . We had a special guest Woodeline, who is Adrianna’s aunt. Woodline is a 23 year old student at  CUNY Medgar Evers College. She came into talk about her experiences in life and gave her views on the topic of how does your culture shapes you as a person.

Everyone had different ethnicity and different views on current topic questions.

Emma is half Brazilian and Colombian. Adrianna, Woodeline , and Cindy are Haitian American . Nahjeera is African American.

Everyone gave their input about how if you act differently because you need to change your identity or show less of your culture to the world, everyone gave their honest opinion about how they show  themselves to the world.

We hope you enjoy this podcast click here to watch

What is your culture? How do you define your culture? How has it shaped you as a person?

To check out our Summer Interns other podcasts, click here

This is a love letter to the abused,
For my friends who’ve dug fault lines so deep into their soul
They don’t understand when a compliment bounces off their armored skin with a hollow t h u n k
And stare blankly ahead with confusion when even the closest of people try to lift them higher
They think to themselves, ‘What’s wrong with me?’
When there’s nothing wrong at all

This is a love letter to the abused,
For the wise and the meek to realize that they can take off their armor
That they can shed their tears without hesitation or fear
Allow yourself to rise from your soot and ash,
You are worthy of more than limitations you’ve set
Unburden your soul and unclench your fists for you deserve to smile for yourself

… This is a love letter to the abused,
From one kindred spirit to you.

Submitted by: Faljak

Talk with the creator of this expression and join the conversation here

I – You – Me – Us.
We.
Remember what you say this day. And those therein.
Verbatim.

No one knows your strife, who you were in a redacted essence.
Your wits and good guidance be-damned and screwed to the sticking place
Lest we all fall back into a cycle,
Over and over,
Tilting back into that same phase of incriminating definition;

You know your stigmata,
Be it so bright it blinds those who look at you now?

Hear they not our cries and pleas?
Our so-called excuses for restitution of reality that we greedily seek?
Drugs and antidotes and therapies so fruitlessly plundered
From the ministry and hierarchy
Normality, we ask so wantonly;

But to be normal would be to lose who we have become or what we have aimed for,
We are as we have always been so leave us are we are

I – You – Me – Us.
We.
Remember what you say this day. And those therein.
Verbatim.

Submitted by: faljak

“You are c u r s e d,”
They told me.

You do not know how to SEE,
You only see through a veil your mind creates, those eyes no one else knows about
You only see the good in those around you
Even if they tread you underfoot
You only gaze at others through the eyes of an old soul,
Expecting them to look back at you the same way

“You are c u r s e d,”
They told me.

You do not know how to love
You choose only to love your hate, your rage, your terror
And worst of all, have found comfort in it all
You have found love not in yourself,
But in your abusers
Yet your heart is greedy and so full of the ability to GIVE

“You are c u r s e d,”
They told me.

You know so much and explain so little,
Tell me do you know how your intuition works?
Can you explain your own emotions if asked?
Can you give yourself the time of day without thinking of someone else first?
You have grown complaisant to your pain,
You have come to anticipate it and thank those who give it

“But you are B L E S S E D,”
They told me.

As you fill your wounds with lacquered gold,
A scarred statue who feels so profoundly it connects to the souls around them
You cover yourself in the finest of cloth to hide from the snares in your mind
You have turned your demons, your monsters, into your familiars – who now service your needs
Your veins beat to a drum singing of L O V E,
And W O R T H

“My dear, you are blessed.”

This is my getaway

My safe space

In lonely times

An array of options

Opinions

Thoughts

On everything that has to do with me

Or belongs to someone else

But is it safe?

Am I really lonely

Am I bombarded with wild thoughts

…Sharing sensitive secrets

Or Am I being too quiet

Too inquisitive?

This is social media!

-Kevin

Life- This poem celebrates life. Life without doctrines, or man’s perception of what a worldly life is. It talks about the blank slate as life starts. it is what the great philosopher, John Locke calls the Tabula Rasa.

–Kevin

Its almost the end of National Poetry Month. I just want to share a final poem before the month ends. Of course, many more to come.

The theme of this poem is perseverance. It looks at the idea that each day might come to an end but our individual fight continues.

-Kevin

In Celebration of National Poetry Month, I am happy to share this poem. It was written with two people in mind. Typically, two lovers but in this context, its seeks to describe the relationship between the poet and the reader.

-Kevin

“This poem was written many years before our current political situation. But it resonates very well with our times. Still the intention was to generate humor but I guess its about politics too.” – Kevin

There goes an old woman in a long nylon frock

Following the trail down the highway hill

Praising the name of David Phil

He is a good man they say, he is the man to run the main

And so the party people followed making their victory begging raid.

Well, they judged the candidates wife

“I believe she is pretty,” one man says

“She will make a fine first lady and I like her fashionable ways.”

“I heard she is from India

A humble lady,” someone says.

The wife prays for the party’s win

And the farmer prays for good

The lawyer prays for lower excises

And the janitor prays for higher wages

While the party president finds a perfect place, in that perfect day, to hibernate.

 The people of the nation; their thinking’s are ill

They vote a man in power with low credit and a high bill

The government full of doctors, but not accordingly they behave

And while the people wrestle to strive

The sovereign minds comes to a ‘still’

Hopefully I can use my poetry to inspire someone.

“Is This Living In Vain?” background: I wrote this poem about a year ago. Not long ago but I remember the thoughts I had so clearly. I remember walking in the rain, with thoughts rushing through my mind. The minute I got home, I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and scribbled the words down. This is the result.

The theme focuses on depression and digs into the multiple symptoms (including racing thoughts) that I was experiencing through my journey.

-Kevin

Here, you can look at other forms of creativity and expression.

If you would like to see how the power of poetry can help mental health, go here.

Island Boy Poetry: These are some of my poems. I am finally getting back into the habit of writing but most importantly, poetry is my everything, including my motivation. While you read these poems, just imagine yourself as the writer.

Hope I could help someone get through today

Another Rave 

Vision me weeping in this world

That covets its own wealth

Where the meek reaps and sweats

And the fortunate sips and keeps.

And god is taught.

And I am torn of my dignity.

Here kindness witnesses a dying child

…Of hunger

…Of rejection

…Of slaughtered conscience

but refuses to acquiesce

And turn a blind eye,

But likewise almost dead.

Voices parade streets

With a shared language

That should champion hope.

Hasn’t the world had seen enough of corruption?

Hate?

Violence?

Has the world not yet come to learn history?

For some it’s a passion

For others its simply what is convenient

But to think of it…

Utter love and peace is still a vision.

Depression 

I’ve been thinking

And I think back to that morning I woke in tears

With feelings of gloom and despair.

And I think back to my dream

And I think back to my feeling alone

And my fears

And why every minute of every day is too much

For my pounding heart

And this miserable headache.

And my body bleeds with memories

And flashbacks

And begs to know the future

And to forget this moment

That is but a bad dream.

But everything awakens me

From memories of failure

To feelings of helplessness.

And I feel a little weak

From all the madness in the world

Judgment and hate

And there “I overthink”…

And I become lost in misery and torment

And thoughts follow thoughts

But into another deep sleep

That halts the emotional trauma

And becomes the antidote for my depression.

—Kevin

Super Advocate Open Mic Night at Toivo

Come share your POETRY, SPOKEN WORD, SHORT PROSE & ART!

Come to experience the power of spoken word, and other expressive arts, performed by emerging adults from across the state.

WHERE:
399 Franklin Avenue
Hartford, Connecticut

WHEN:
Friday, July 29, 2016

4:00PM-7:00PM

Get your Flyer HERE!!!

Recovery Community Open Mic – Hey everyone! Check out this KOOL Open Mic event on June 24th in Bridgeport, CT.

Its a free event hosted by CCAR, BRCC and YAF at the Bridgeport Recovery Community Center. Please see flyer HERE.
This is an an opportunity for all young adults in recovery to express themselves and their perspectives through music, poetry, spoken, you name it!

The event is open to ALL… bring family and friends and get ready for a sober afternoon.

Mental Health Open Mic Night – RIPPLE (Recovery Innovations for Pursuing Peer Leadership and Empowerment) will hold its first Mental Health & Addiction Open Mic Night at Never Ending Books in New Haven, next Wednesday May 18th!

This is only our first open mic night!

Who can perform? If you have first-hand lived experience with mental health and/or addiction, whether or not you’ve used services, we want to hear your poetry, short prose, spoken word, and art!

Who can join and listen? Anyone at all! We’d love to have providers, family members, and other folks along with our peers sitting in the audience, witnessing the powerful performers sharing their work!

A word about language: You’ll notice the word “recovery” isn’t in the name of the event, or in the description; this is not an oversight. We’ve heard from too many of our peers that they feel they are not in recovery “yet,” because they are “still too sick,” or are “sick again.” We believe recovery is not the destination at the end of treatment – it is the journey itself, the method of travel – we believe that “set-backs” and “relapses” are part of the journey. Too many of our peers exclude themselves from the term “recovery” because they feel they are “too sick” to be in recovery; we want them to know they are welcome and that they have so much to offer!

Please consider sharing our flyer with your networks, we hope to see you at Never Ending Books on the 18th!

Have a great weekend, and keep on #RockingRecovery!